


dessert

by honestground



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Cunnilingus, Drunk Sex, Established Relationship, F/M, Face-Sitting, Link is an assertive drunk, Shameless Smut, Vaginal Sex, Zelda is loud, and they are in love, obviously they are in Gerudo Town and obviously Link is in his vai disguise, postgame, they are both fully conscious and consenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 10:25:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11987895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honestground/pseuds/honestground
Summary: “Imagine how improper this looks,” she giggles, slightly giddy from alcohol and the headiness of wanting him. “A pretty little vai dragging me back to my room to have her way with me.”“You were the one giving thispretty little vaithe bedroom eyes over the main course at dinner,” Link points out, fumbling with their room key. “You’re lucky I didn’t sneak under the table and have you for dessert instead.”





	dessert

**Author's Note:**

> An old one from tumblr. Anon wanted drunk sex, I wanted an excuse to write facesitting.

****The Princess of Hyrule is drunk.

She and Link had arrived that morning for what Chief Riju and her advisors had called a _cultural exchange._ To Zelda’s relief, it had so far been informal; Riju had gifted her with a set of gorgeous traditional Gerudo clothing—appropriate for the desert weather and little else—and she spent most of her afternoon with the little chief, lounging by the oasis drinking hydromelon juice, idly watching Link attempt to surf the dunes on his shield and laughing when he ended up face-down in the sand.

That evening saw them attending an exquisite dinner with the chief and some of her soldiers. Zelda had dressed in her new attire for the occasion, and Link spent the entire meal staring at her, missing his mouth with his fork every time she so much as batted her eyelashes. Once Riju and Lady Buliara had bid them goodnight, Captain Teake and her squad suggested a trip down to the Noble Canteen, where Zelda was informed that she _must_ try a certain beverage called a Noble Pursuit.

“It’s Furosa’s specialty,” Teake had told her. “It wouldn’t be a proper cultural exchange without you sampling one, Highness.”

“One drink, Princess,” Link said. 

“All right,” Zelda relented. “Just one drink.” 

Four drinks later, Zelda has found herself gathered around a table amongst a group of muscular Gerudo women, listening to Link regaling them all with tales of his travels around Hyrule. Still forced to don his vai disguise, he tried his best to speak an octave higher than normal, but Furosa kept refilling their glasses, and Link kept accidentally slipping back into his usual deeper tones.

Not that anybody cares, Zelda thinks to herself with a grin. Riju and Buliara certainly didn’t, and judging by the way their companions grin across the table at her when Link haphazardly throws his arm around her shoulders, they had probably figured out Link’s true identity too. It was possibly the worst kept secret in Gerudo Town.

But Zelda doesn’t care if people know. She doesn’t care if people know that the delicate Hylian vai beside her is none other than her appointed knight. She doesn’t care if people know that he’s been tracing small circles on her thigh with one deft finger all evening. She _wants_ people to know that the _man_ sitting beside her is _hers._

So when Furosa returns to take their orders for another round, Zelda gives his leg a gentle squeeze, casting him a significant glance, and Link quickly drains the last of his fifth—or sixth?—Noble Pursuit beneath his veil and slides the glass to the middle of the table. “I think we’ll call it a night,” he says, making another attempt at imitating a female voice and not quite managing.

Teake waggles her eyebrows at them as they slip out of the booth. “Those Noble Pursuits are going to hurt in the morning,” she tells them. “You sure you’ll be up for your meeting with the chief?”

“Nonsense,” Zelda says. The world spins a little as she stands, but Link holds her steady, hand resting at the small of her back. “I’m not that drunk.”

To her misfortune, she punctuates her sentence with a loud hiccup, and their companions roar with laughter. She sees Link’s unveiled eyes crinkle in the corners, and she knows he’s grinning behind the chiffon as he wraps his fingers around her wrist. “Let’s get you to bed,” he says, voice low and slurred and distinctly male.

The off-duty soldiers hoot and catcall them as Link tugs her out the door. “Take care of her, hero!”

The night brings a slight chill to Gerudo Town, and she’s wearing little more than Link is, but Zelda still feels overheated and lightheaded, face turned up to the heavens as he leads her back to their lodgings. So enthralled by the sky above them, she stumbles a little as they hurry through the town square, and Link quickly turns to catch her.

“What has you so distracted?” he asks quietly, aware of the few townspeople and tourists still milling about the square. 

“The stars,” Zelda says, breathless. “They’re so much brighter out here.” 

“You’re drunk,” he teases, pulling her close, his eyes bright and warm as they move over her face.

“ _You’re_ drunk,” she counters, poking him in the chest. “And you’re _cute_.”

He tries to kiss her, forgetting that the lower half of his face is still covered, and Zelda dissolves into laughter and pulls away.

“Not here,” she says, reaching up under the veil to run her thumb over his bottom lip. His tongue darts out, and then he catches her thumb between his teeth, and a shudder runs through her that has absolutely nothing to do with the night chill. “ _Link_.” 

She feels him grin, and then his hand comes up to intertwine their fingers, and they all but run across the square, hand-in-hand.

At the behest of the Chief, they’re staying in one of the apartments in the guard’s quarters behind the palace, as opposed to taking a room in Hotel Oasis. _For your privacy,_ Buliara had deadpanned upon their arrival, and though Zelda had burned in embarrassment, she is suddenly very glad for it. They duck through the side entrance, practically falling into each other’s arms once they’re within the dark, enclosed space of the barracks.

“ _Finally,”_ Link says, and he roughly pulls off his veil and pins her against the wall.

Their mouths connect in a searing kiss, fervent and frenzied, fuelled just a little by the alcohol but mostly by their avid desire for each other. It’s a little sloppy, a little clumsy, but it’s still Link so it’s still _perfect_ , and Zelda loops her arms around his neck, melting against him and kissing him harder.

They break apart to catch their breaths, Zelda running her hands through Link’s hair. “You’re so pretty in that veil,” she whispers.

“ _You’re_ pretty,” Link mumbles, eyes heavy-lidded and cheeks reddened as he cradles her face in his hands. “Goddess, you’re so gorgeous, Zelda.”

He has her pinned, his body flush against her as he kisses her breathless again, the thin silk of his sirwal doing absolutely nothing to disguise his need for her. A small part of Zelda—probably the same one that hadn’t called it quits after her third drink—is tempted to have him take her right here and now, against the wall in the barracks, but rational Zelda thinks of their room, and the large, comfortable bed that awaits them.

“Link,” she murmurs, and then he drags one hand up her torso to grope her breast over her silk bandeau and she involuntarily gasps his name again. “ _Link_.”

“Hmm?” he hums, lips trailing over the line of her jaw.

“We can’t do this here.”

“Why not?”

“Because—” his thumb deliberately brushes her nipple and her voice cracks “—this is _indecent_ , and I don’t think Buliara would hesitate to have us thrown out of town and banned from the entire _region_ if she caught us, regardless of our relationship with the chief, and—”

“Shh!” Link hurriedly shushes her with another kiss, and she can feel him laughing. “You’re going to have us arrested if you don’t keep it down.”

In her inebriated state, Zelda hadn’t realised she was nearly shouting. She drops her voice to a stage whisper. “Take me upstairs so you can ravish me _properly_.”

Link grins and backs off, stooping to pick up his discarded veil. He takes her hand and pulls her toward the stairs. “Now who’s being indecent?”

By some grace of the Goddess, Zelda manages to keep pace with Link as they stumble up the stairs and towards their door. True to form, though, she can’t seem to stop talking. “Imagine how improper this looks,” she giggles, slightly giddy from alcohol and the headiness of wanting him. “A pretty little vai dragging me back to my room to have her way with me.”

“You were the one giving this _pretty little vai_ the bedroom eyes over the main course at dinner,” Link points out, fumbling with their room key. “You’re lucky I didn’t sneak under the table and have you for dessert instead.” 

Zelda flushes bright red and swats him. “You’re _awful!_ ”

The door finally open, Link pulls her into his arms again. “You love it,” he says, and he sweeps them both inside.

She does, Zelda realizes, Link’s lips hot and insistent on hers as he half-carries her to the bedroom. Her love for him had always been constant—a slow-burning flame settled deep in her chest, but she was being engulfed by it now, something about the stillness of the desert sky and the scent of his skin turning the smolder into an inferno. She hadn’t told him, not in words, certain that they had long since come to an understanding, but she’s struck with a sudden desperation to say it aloud.

“Link—” she starts, but then her back hits the mattress and Link drags her bandeau down to close his mouth over her nipple, and her sentence peters out to a whine. “ _Oh_.” 

Link hums, one hand coming up to knead at her breast while he works at the other with his mouth, and Zelda’s head falls back on a moan, fingers tugging gently on his hair as his tongue trails over her chest. She kicks off her shoes as his free hand works at the tie on her sirwal, hastily dragging the silk trousers down her legs and tossing them to the floor.

“Goddess,” Zelda breathes, as Link straightens up to rid himself of his arm wraps. “You’re assertive when you’re drunk.”

“The princess told me to ravish her,” Link says, pulling his cropped chemise over his head. “I’m just following orders.”

“Lucky princess,” Zelda quips, slipping her bandeau off.

“No.” He lowers himself over her again, eyes hungry. “Lucky me.”

He kisses her again, soft and long and lazy, and Zelda is perfectly content in getting lost in it a little, breaths mingling and tongues moving against each other as their hands roam a little lower. Even though they’ve been doing this for months—exploring and learning and discovering each other _—_ it’s still _thrilling_ to know that she has the power to make the hero whine and moan and gasp and _beg._

But Zelda’s needy and impatient, lightheaded from the alcohol and the desert heat and wanting him, and unhappy to find him still partially clothed, she fumbles with his sirwal. “Off,” she says, eloquence leaving her with him this close. “Please.”

“Later.” Link bats her hands away and sits back again, reaching for her undergarments instead. “There’s something I want to do first.”

Zelda lifts her hips to assist him. “Oh?”

“I was serious about having you for dessert.”

Heat spreads through her body at his words, only exacerbated by the exalted expression on his face as he slips her underwear off and to the floor. “Goddess,” he says, “look at you.”

He folds himself over her again and deftly rolls them toward the headboard, arranging them so she’s half-seated in his lap, lavishing her chest with heady kisses, tongue trailing down her sternum and over her nipples. Zelda hums appreciatively as his hands roam over her hips and thighs, inches from where she wants him most. “Such a tease,” she mumbles.

Link laughs, kissing her breast one last time. “Trust me, okay?” he says, and then he starts shuffling down the bed.

Zelda yelps a little in surprise as he jostles her, grabbing the headboard to steady herself as he pulls her hips towards him. “Link, what—”

“I want to try this,” Link says, slipping his arms through her parted legs so that she’s effectively straddling his neck. He comes to rest flat on his back, gaze settling at the apex of her thighs, eyes lidded and pupils blown. “Okay?”

Zelda blushes to the tips of her ears. Any other time she would be mortified, would have already squirmed away, but Link’s face is flushed and wonderful in the moonlight, and her inhibitions are at an all-time low. She so desperately wants to be touched that just his breath ghosting over her is enough to make her shiver. 

“Are you sure?” she says, even as she trembles with anticipation.

“Absolutely.” He kisses her inner thigh, deliberately and _frustratingly_ close, and grins up at her when he hears her breath hitch. “Your throne awaits, Princess.”

Zelda laughs. “You’re awful.”

“You’re _perfect_ ,” Link says, and then he tilts his chin up and pulls her down against his mouth.

He’s done this before but never like _this_ , with Zelda above him and in control, but still very much at his mercy. She grasps the headboard to support herself, arching her back and whining brokenly as Link coils and broadens his tongue, moving his mouth against her methodically as he kisses and licks.

She hears Link growl low in his throat as he grips her backside and pulls her closer, encouraging her to move against his mouth in a slow grind, and Zelda has to bite down on her own fist to stop a cry from escaping.

“This is— _obscene,_ ” she manages, and Link merely makes an approving noise from beneath her, and then his fingers move into her to assist alongside his mouth, and Zelda’s legs almost give out. “ _Link_.”

If she remembers any of this in the morning she will absolutely blame the alcohol, because the Princess of Hyrule does not grasp her own breasts while her appointed knight attends to her with his lips and tongue _,_ the Princess of Hyrule does not turn incoherent when said appointed knight curls two fingers against _that spot_ inside her and _presses_ , and the Princess of Hyrule certainly does not say things like, “Goddess, Link—your _mouth—_ ”

Except that she does, and she is, and she really does hope that she will remember this in the morning, because she can feel the pressure building, coiling low in her belly as she gasps and pleads with her forehead pressed against the wall, her knight making soft, encouraging noises below.

He’s insatiable, savouring her like a doomed man would his last meal, his exultant groans muffled against her _,_ and she’s holding herself up with the headboard by now, her legs don’t seem to work, and she absently worries that they may never work again. 

“Link— _Link_ —” Zelda gasps, hand slapping the wall as her entire body goes tight. “I’m so close—I’m so—”

Link presses up hard with the flat of his tongue _,_ and the tension within Zelda snaps. All control leaving her, she grinds down shamelessly, her high whine ending in a broken sob as her climax overcomes her, Link dutifully stilling his mouth and letting her ride it out until the sensation fades.

Still clutching at the headboard for support, Zelda goes boneless against the wall, legs trembling as Link emerges from beneath her, sitting up as much as he can. “You okay?” 

“I think you broke me,” Zelda manages weakly. “I don’t think I can move.”

Link pulls her down into his lap again, rolling them over so she’s on her back with him hovering above her, pressing soft kisses against her neck and chest. She feels him, hard and hot against her thigh even through silk, and she reaches down to grasp him, feeling him sigh and drop his head against her shoulder.

“Can I be inside you?” he asks quietly, and Zelda starts nodding frantically before the question has fully left his mouth, tugging at the ties on his sirwal and unceremoniously dragging it down to his knees.

He lines himself up and pushes into her, both of them sighing in relief as Link starts to move. It’s slow and unhurried this time, Zelda’s legs wrapped high around his waist and clutching him to her like a lifeline, their foreheads bent together. Link cradles her face in his hands, watching her with heavy-lidded eyes as he rocks into her, a little lazily, like he’s trying to draw it out. 

But Zelda is impatient again, and she wants to feel and see him come undone, so she digs her heels into Link’s lower back, encouraging him deeper. “Faster,” she keens, “please,” and he immediately hastens, bracing himself with one forearm, and then suddenly it’s frantic again, a race to the finish for them both.

She’s so sensitive from before that the friction of Link’s lower belly against her is enough, and Zelda reaches her peak again—less forceful this time—pushing her face into his neck with a whimper as she trembles around him, and Link makes a broken, desperate noise, his movements faltering. “Zelda—I’m gonna—I’m—” 

“ _Please_ ,” she hisses, and Link sinks into her one last time, groaning low into her hair as he shudders with the force of his own release.

Link slips off of her so that they’re lying on their sides, kissing clumsily and exchanging gentle touches as they wait for their heartbeats to slow, until he withdraws carefully and kicks off his sirwal, pulling the sheets over them both. The world is still spinning a little—from the alcohol or what just transpired, Zelda isn’t sure.

“I’m sorry you had to do all the work,” she says sleepily, eyes half closed.

“Just following orders, Princess,” Link says.

“To the letter, I’d say,” Zelda agrees. “I’d fetch us some water but I don’t think I can stand.” 

Her words almost beg for a smart remark, but Link says nothing. At his silence, Zelda opens her eyes, finding him watching her with a soft, sated smile, his face flushed and honest in the moonlight. She frowns. “What?”

Link shrugs. “I love you,” he says simply. 

All of the breath leaves her as she shifts closer, Link opening his arms to her, and she moves into his embrace, pushing her face against his neck. “I love you too,” she says, a thrill running through her as she finally speaks the words, and he ducks his head to kiss her. She can still taste the alcohol, and it might be unpleasant in the morning, but for now, everything tastes sweet.

She curls up next to him, head pillowed against his chest, listening to the stillness and silence of the desert around them, and then a thought strikes her. “Do you think anyone heard?” 

“What, the Princess of Hyrule crying out in ecstasy?” Link says. “Just the entire palace and half the town, probably.”

Zelda yawns, deciding to wait until morning to be mortified. “Lucky princess.”

“No,” Link says, holding her closer. “Lucky me.”

**Author's Note:**

> I generally post to tumblr first so check my [masterlist](https://honestground.tumblr.com/masterlist) for a full directory of all of my filth.


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